Tracks (Rock Bottom) (31 page)

I lift
my head up off of Jeremy’s chest and smile at him. He smiles back. His eyes are bright and sparkling again aside from their slight yellow color, but his skin is still grey, and a sheen of sweat is on his forehead.

“You’re awake,” I say, relieved.

“You’re here,” he breathes, his voice still smooth and exquisite. “You had me stay?” he questions, surprised.

“Of course I did,” I place my hand on his face, running my fingers along his cheekbones and stubble, down to his chin.
He smiles a wide smile.

“I’m sorry I scared you. As soon as you left and I couldn’t find you, I knew that I never wanted to touch that stuff again. The way I felt when you left me…no substance on Earth could make me forget that feeling…” Jeremy trails off.

“I know you love me, Jeremy. And I love you. We’re going to do this together,” I comfort him. I look at his forehead that continues to sweat. I take part of the blanket and wipe his head with it. “How are you feeling?” I ask him, worried.

He shrugs. “I’ve been worse. I’ll be ok. The nurse has me on medication; a benzodiazepine to get me off of the alcohol and some medications for seizures. I’m finally on an antidepressant, too, and they’re having a psychiatrist see
me weekly,” he says, proudly.

“That’s wonderful!”
I say, excitedly. “It seems like you’re really giving this a try.”

He smiles for a moment, but then his face turns serious. He pushes a strand of my blonde hair back behind my ear. My heart beats faster with the intensity of his gaze.

“When all of this shit is over and I’m able to be a man worthy of you, I’m going to marry you.”

My cheeks flush. “We’ll see,” I say, softly. “You have to think about a lot of things. Your career will take you away, and I can’t
leave Harvard to follow you…”

“No,” he cuts me off. “I don’t care about anything else. It

will all work itself out. I need you. I love you.”

I roll my eyes, embarrassed, and push off of him to get myself out of bed. I feel gross being in the clothes from yesterday, so I make my way over to my dresser. I pull out new underwear and a bra from the top drawer and a long sleeve shirt and jeans from the bottom.

I hear Jeremy adjusting in bed, sitting himself up. With my back facing him, I take my shirt off and throw it to the floor, and then my bra.

“Getting dressed so soon? Why n
ot come back to bed for a while? It’s Sunday, no class for you,” he says. I can hear the smile in his voice.

I
turn my head over my shoulder and smile at him. “It’s almost noon.”

I drop
my jeans and step out of them.

“Dylan,” Jeremy says, more seriously. I stop and turn my head over my shoulder again, my eyebrows furrowed.
His eyes are unexpectedly hungry. My heart beats faster as he looks the back of my body up and down. I stand there frozen in just my underwear.

“Come back to bed,” he says, again. This time, it’s an order.

I give him a disapproving look. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m nervous it’s too much for you. You were really bad yesterday.”

He nods in agreement, but smiles. “I don’t have to do any work, technically.” He looks up at me from under his long beautiful lashes. He takes his shirt o
ff and throws it to the floor.

I try to look annoyed with him but I know I’m failing. He’s so beautiful, his long muscles
pronounced. Ok, two can play at that game.

I wait until he’s looking at me again, and I turn around to face him, the front of my body bare. His eyes widen. “Dylan, please baby, come to me. I’m not above begging for you.”

I lower my underwear to the floor and step out of them. I walk over to Jeremy, naked, and climb on top of his lap so that I’m straddling him. I expected him to start putting his hands all over me and kissing me passionately, but instead he hugs me to him, so that our bare chests push together.

“I honestly thought I’d never hold you like this again,” Jerem
y says, mumbling into my hair.

“Me either,” I confide.

“I’ll never disappoint you again. Nothing is worth being without you.”

I pull away from him and look into his ocean blue eyes.
He smiles tenderly at me, brushing my hair back. I climb off of him for a moment to take his pants off and throw them off the bed. I climb back onto him, stopping as I remember, “Where’s the nurse?”

He kisses my neck softly, “In the living room. She gave me a bell to ring if I need her. She checks on me every half hour or so. She’ll knock.”
He continues to kiss my neck.

I guess I’m ok with that answer.
I lean over to my bedside table and grab a condom from the drawer, part of the stash I kept there during the weeks I spent with Jeremy before he left for the tour. After sliding it on him, I lift myself up a bit and then down onto him, allowing him to enter me. He gasps softly, grabbing my back. I feel him fill me, closing my eyes with pleasure.

I move slowly on him, running my hands through his soft hair, watching his face express the pleasure he feels. From time to time,
however, it almost looks as if he’s grimacing. After the third or fourth time I notice it, I ask, “What’s wrong?”

He shakes hi
s head without opening his eyes. “Nothing,” he chokes out.

I slow slightly,
worrying that I’m hurting him, but he places his hands on my hips to will me to move faster. “What’s wrong, then?” I ask again.

“I’m in so much pain. I hurt everywhere. But don’t stop,” he says as I freeze. I
hesitantly start moving again. “You’re making me feel so good. It’s so nice to feel so good again.”

I move faster and our breathing increases. Jeremy reaches his hands behind me, grabbing my ass. “God, yes,” he says. I continue to pick up my speed.

Jeremy hangs his head back, leaning it against the wall. His face is clenched in pleasure, his jaw tight. I knew he was close, so I drove myself down on him, hard.

“Fuck,”
he said, releasing into me, and I collapse onto him.

We sleep for a while off and on, staying in bed all day. He sleeps more than I do, and I’m glad to see he’s catching up on rest. I read or watch a movie, and sometimes I just sit and watch him sleep. He mumbles and sweats in his sleep from time to time, stirring as if he’s having a bad dream.
I rub my hands on his arm or face, which seems to settle him a bit, and he’s able to eventually fall back into peaceful slumber.

I notice the sun beginning to set, causing the sky to become a bright orange. I hear a knock at the door, and the nurse enters a few moments later, holding a tray of food for us.
She sets in gracefully on the table next to me. I smile and thank her in a whisper, and she nods at me and quietly leaves the room.

I rub Jeremy on the arm. “Jeremy?” I say, softly. “Wake up and ea
t. You haven’t eaten all day.”

He moans towards me, sweat appearing on his forehead. I bite my lip, unsure of what to do.
Should I just let him sleep? Somehow I think that he should eat something, especially since he hasn’t eaten at all since he’s arrived. “Wake-up. You have to eat something,” I press.

He rubs his eyes and sits up in the bed. He looks over at me and tries to smile, but I can tell he’s in pain. He’s shivering as if he’s freezing, but he has multiple blankets on. S
weat is pouring down his face.

“Oh, honey,” he says, his voice tight. “My stomach is killi
ng me. I’m just not up to it.”

I give him a concerned look. “I don’t understand. Why are you so
sick if you’re on medication?”

He looks away from me for a moment, and then meets my eyes again, as if he’s warring with telling me s
omething. “Tell me,” I beg.

“
This isn’t from the alcohol withdrawal. It’s from the heroin.” A deep shiver ripples over his body.

“Okay,” I say, still confused. “What can they give you for that? Don’t they have methadone clinics for that?” I am completely naive about the subject, especially because I’ve avoided hearing
anything about that drug after my mother.

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to get on that nasty stuff.
It’s just another addiction to feed an addiction. Besides,” he hangs his head. “I deserve to suffer.”

I furrow my eyebrows at him disapprovingly. “Come on, Jeremy. You don’t have to suffer.” I grab his hand, squeezing it. His palms are drenched and his hand trembles.
“You’re doing the right thing right now by getting clean.”

He wraps his free hand over his stomach. “God, it hurts so bad.”
His shaking gets worse.

I’m suddenly afraid. “Please, Jeremy, take something. I don’t want to see you in pain,” I said, my voice breaking on the last word.

He snickers a bit. “Babe, I’m going to be in pain for a little while. There’s not much to do about that.”

I give him a smug look. I reach over him to grab the bell on the bedside table near him, ringing it be
fore he can get to it himself.

The nurse enters the room almost instantly, and I plop down in my spot on the bed
. Jeremy looks at me, annoyed.

“Mr
. Mason?” the nurse questions.

Jeremy opens his mouth, but I cut him o
ff. “Actually, it was me.”

“Miss
Ackhart?” she says, turning her attention to me.

“Jer
emy is in pain. Can you help?”

Jeremy looks at me, still angry, and then back at her. His sh
aking is still obvious. “It’s fine, really.”

She walks over to him
, grabbing the blood pressure machine from the corner of the room and taking his vital signs. She says his blood pressure is reading high, and suggests a few things to him.

“Let’s do this, Mr. Mason. I’ll give you Clonidine, which will help with the chills and sweats. It’ll bring down your blood pressure, too. Also, I’ll give you Bentyl for the stomach cramps, and Motrin and a muscle relaxer for the muscle aches. Ok
ay?”

He sighs heavily. “Yeah, ok
ay.”

“Hold out your hands, please,” she instructs him. He raises his arms in front of him, palms down towards her. They are extremely tremulous. I look at the nurse in concern. She, also, looks c
oncerned.

“Maybe we
should give you more Librium?”

“No,” Jeremy basically cuts her off
, crossing his arms over his chest again. “No, no narcotics. Not more than I have to.”

“Jeremy,” I
say, my annoyance increasing. My stomach churns. “Alcohol withdrawal is no joke.”

“I know that,”
he snaps at me. “Unlike you.”

I look at him in surprise. He can be so mean when he’s talking about drugs. It’s like
he’s a whole different person.

His face relaxes after he says the words. “I’m sorry, Dylan. I’m sorry. Okay,” he looks towards the nurse. “I’ll take the rest of the stuff, but no Librium yet.”

The nurse nods and exits the room, returning a few moments later with a cup full of pills. Jeremy takes it with water and, grabbing his stomach, lies back down on the bed. Within minutes, he’s asleep again.

I sigh. I guess I’m eating alone.

The next morning comes and my alarm goes off at 6 a.m. as it does every weekday morning. I jump at the sound and quickly hit the snooze button, rolling over to see if it had woken Jeremy. He didn’t seem to move.

I lay there for a minute, trying to decide whether or not I should go to class today. Jeremy looked terrible yesterday, and he was moaning and crying in his sleep. I decide that either way, I’d have to take a shower. So I’ll get up, shower, and then see how Jeremy is when I come back into the room.

In the shower, I wonder how weird it’s going to be to see Scott in class. Things shouldn’t be weird, but I have a feeling they will be. That fact alone makes me want to not go to class. I have a hard time in awkward situations and dealing with confrontations.

After showering, I enter the room with a towel on, and sneak over to my dresser to find some clothes. I choose simple black pants and a light pink blouse, and try to silently get dressed, as Jere
my still seems to be sleeping.

After dressing, I walk over to where he’s lying on the bed, and pause when I see his eyes are open. He’s staring off into space, and doesn’t even look up at me when I approach.
His skin and eyes are extremely yellow. His face is a bit puffy and swollen. If it weren’t for his deep, regular breathing, I would think he was dead.

“Jeremy?”
I say, running my fingers through his gorgeous hair. He shuts his eyes tightly, and a tear runs down his face.

I kneel by the side of the bed.
“Honey,” I said, my voice breaking. “What can I do? Should I stay?”

His eyes still
closed, he shakes his head no.

I sigh. I have a feeling
I’m not going to class today.